Broken Heart
by Mako-clb
Summary: Sometimes life decides when and how we die, sometimes we decide for ourselves. But, we almost never get to decide how and when we lose a loved one. Leia knows that better than most. When she suffers one loss too many, she decides to take matters into her own hands. Dedicated to Carrie Fisher for bringing Princess Leia to life.


Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and to Disney, which has done both some awesome and really terrible things to the galaxy far, far away. I don't own these characters and I make no money from this story.

Dedication: This story is dedicated to Carrie Fisher. For me, she will always be the woman who brought to life the first and best self-rescuing princess.

Author's Note: This story takes place a about three months galactic standard time after The Force Awakens. At this time, it's probably as close to being TFA/new-canon compliant as possible, though I'm sure it will end up being an AU.

 **Broken Heart  
** by Mako-clb

Poe tried to talk me out of this up until the last moment, even as I was climbing out of his ship. He doesn't even know what he was trying to talk me out of. Not a soul does. They think I'm meeting a contact to pass along some important information. They think it might be the deciding factor in this war against the First Order. And, they think I'm going because I'm the only one the contact will meet. They would be mostly right.

I'm not here to meet a Resistance contact. But, today, these next few moments, might well make a major difference in this war. And, I am going because I'm the only one who can do this. It has to be me. It has to be this. It always did. I should have known that from the beginning, but I foolishly, stubbornly held out hope. The Resistance has a new hope now. Rey. I knew she was something special the moment I met her. I knew she was something special when Han told me about her. The way his whole face lit up. I hadn't seen that look since long before he left me. Not since we lost Ben.

There aren't many enemies here, and most of them are weak-willed or distracted enough that I can use the Force to mask my presence. Those I can't, I avoid. I know I can't win in a fire fight. I'm too old now. Not as old as Han, but somehow older. I haven't been truly well in a long time. Too many years fighting. Too much damage from all the physical and mental torture I suffered in the first war and in this one.

War. Hatred. Death. Destruction. Abandonment. That is the legacy of Skywalker blood. But, it ends tonight. I have just enough strength left to be sure of that.

I sense him before I see him. Hatred. Violence. Destruction. Death. A Skywalker, without question. It doesn't matter that he never carried the name. That's what he is. We called him Ben Solo. Maybe I should have taken Han up on his offer and named him Ben Organa. That name made a difference for me. Would it have made a difference for my son? No, those are foolish, useless thoughts. It was never the name. Solo was just as strong, just as good. It was always the blood, the power. I think sometimes the only reason it didn't take me was because I experienced the results of that tainted blood, that tainted power, first hand, long before I ever knew I had the ability to wield it. Ben never knew that. Han and I wanted him to grow up without knowing the pain we did, the pain of starvation, of torture, of losing your entire family or never knowing them to begin with. Maybe that was our mistake. Or, maybe it was having children at all. I worried that Vader's legacy would be passed to my children, but Luke and Han, especially Han, insisted that I was so good that none of my children could possible turn evil. He was wrong. I would give up every moment of joy I had with Ben if I could erase everything that happened after his fall.

I can't do that. But, I can make sure that no other being suffers at the hands of Kylo Ren, especially not me. My suffering ends today.

"I wasn't sure you would come," I say. "You came alone as I asked."

"I don't need any protection against you," the masked figure says.

"Take off that helmet. You don't need it."

"That's what he said."

"I know."

"You said you came to die, not talk." His voice sounds like a petulant child. It's as if he's throwing a temper tantrum.

In truth, very little about him seems menacing. It's not the quiet, controlled evil of Vader. It's the loud, sullen, wild evil of a selfish, greedy child who wants whatever he sees and thinks he deserves it simply because he exists. But, he isn't a child. He hasn't been for some time, so while a part of me blames myself for what my son has become, another part reminds me that he is a thinking, functioning adult who made his own decisions. I remind myself that the little boy I once loved is gone. Whatever good I might have felt in him, whatever tiny spark of my precious boy might have been left is gone. And, even if it isn't, it will be soon.

"I came to die as your fa…as Han did." I won't call Han this monster's father. Han deserved better than this. He deserved better than me, but even knowing that I can't help but long for him. I still love him so much. I loved him and missed him every day from the one he left me. No, this and that are not the same. Even if he wasn't in my life, I could always sense that he was out there, out in the galaxy somewhere alive. Now, there is nothing. I have nothing, again. I am living and breathing and leading the Resistance, but I am a shell, a husk. There is nothing of Leia Organa left. Nothing of Leia Solo left. Nothing of Leia left at all.

"I sensed the truth in your message, even after it came through so many hands to reach me," Kylo says. "You want to die that much. You want to die the way he died that much."

"I do."

"Tell me."

"The Resistance Base is on–"

"Arbra. I see it in your thoughts. Don't think you can hide it from me," he practically screeches.

"I never intended to," I whisper as he activates his comm and relays the location to the Knights of Ren and orders them to prepare to attack. I'm surprised my voice is so calm, but why shouldn't it be. This is what I wanted. It's what I offered—information in exchange for my death at the hands of Kylo Ren.

I step forward. I'm shorter than Han and Ben, no Kylo Ren, by quite a bit. So, it won't be exactly the same. I won't be able to look straight into his eyes as Han did when the end came, but it will be similar enough.

"Snoke is using you for your power. You know it's true," I say. I don't know if those are Han's exact words. Chewie couldn't hear them all and he may not have remembered every detail, but the words are close enough. It will all be close enough.

Kylo Ren says nothing.

"Say it," I beg. And, I _am_ begging. "Please, say it."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it brings you pain that I don't."

"You told him you were being torn apart," I say, giving his lines myself if he won't cooperate. "You told him you wanted to be free of the pain, and you asked for his help."

"It was all a ruse," Kylo screams.

"I know," I say, voice still calm. I am resigned to this, to my death. It is easy to feel that way, easy to let Kylo Ren sense that I feel that way because I am already dead. I think, maybe, I died that day on the Death Star as I watched Alderaan be destroyed. The rest was just a nightmare that turned into a dream that returned back into a nightmare.

"I never needed his help. He was weak. He was useless. He never did anything but let me down."

"He loved his son. He wanted to save him. He would have done anything to help Ben."

"You don't want to help me. All you want to do is die like him."

"I do want to help you. I want to help you extinguish all the light inside you, just like you want. You started it by killing Han. You'll finish it by killing me. And, yes, I want to die. Will you help me?"

I close what little distance there is left between us. He says nothing, but he holds out his lightsaber. I know Han thought that his son, Ben, was giving it up as a gesture that he was ready to return to the light. Chewie told me. And, I know that instead, Kylo Ren was preparing to strike against a man he hated, who he blamed for becoming the very thing he wanted to become, a monster. He blamed Han, the father who loved the boy he was, for failing him while at the same time admiring the monster that was Vader, a monster who failed his own family in every way possible.

Will I help Kylo Ren, this monster in the body of my son? "Yes, anything," I say, answering my own question as I act out my part. Though I will help him because it will serve my own purpose. I know what is coming, both because I felt it before through the Force and because I feel it now through the Force. I sensed Han's pain, the pain in his heart as his son broke it, and the moment after when there was nothing, nothing of Han Solo and nothing left of me because I had sent the man who saved me with his actions and his love to his death by asking him to save one of the men who had destroyed me. I sense now, in the heartbeat before it happens, when Kylo Ren decides to activate his red blade of death.

I activate my own blade. I hid the hilt inside my long, loose sleeves. And, I hid my intent behind a veil of truth. Kylo Ren's lightsaber pierces my heart a fraction of a moment before my white blade purges the galaxy of his evil by piercing that thing that exists where his heart should be.

We both fall to the ground in death. My physical life is gone before his. I am older, weaker. But, it is only a moment and an eternity in one. I reach out to him through the Force for the first time and one last time, and what I feel gives me hope. There is no light left in Kylo Ren. My son, Ben Solo, is gone. If he really is separate from Kylo Ren, as Luke used to tell me Anakin Skywalker was separate from Darth Vader, perhaps my son can finally rest in peace. But, with no light left in him, Kylo Ren will not live on in the Force, regardless of how much power he may have had.

Kylo Ren is dead. If all goes according to plan, the First Order will attack Arbra and the Resistance will be waiting to ambush them. And, even if that doesn't work, at least I have rid the galaxy of the evil I unleashed.

 **-LOS-LOS-LOS-LOS-**

"LEIA!" I scream with my voice and my mind. I've never felt such agony, but it's not from Leia. She's at peace. The agony is mine because my sister is dead. I reach out for her through the Force, desperate to hold on.

 _Leia, don't go._

 _Why?_

 _I love you. I need you._

 _I love you. I needed you, too._ There is a pause. _You left me._

 _I'm sorry. Stay with me._

 _I don't want to hurt any more,_ she thinks. _I don't want to be abandoned any more._

 _Stay with me. Your spirit can stay with me through the Force. You're strong, Leia, and I can help you._

 _I can, but I won't. I've done my duty. I've fixed my mistakes as much as I was able. I've given the galaxy a chance; I've given them hope. There's none left for me._

 _Yes, there is._

 _The only thing left to me is to end the pain. Let me be at peace, Luke._

 _I'm your brother. Isn't that enough reason to stay?_

 _I'm your sister. It wasn't enough reason for you to stay when I needed you. I was his mother. It wasn't enough reason for Ben to stay in the light. I was Han's wife. He loved me. I know he always did, but it wasn't enough to keep Han with me. When I needed you most, you left me. Knowingly, willingly. You all did what you had to do, what you felt was right for you. I had to respect that if I loved you, even if it hurt. Now it's my turn to do what's right for me, even if it hurts you. If you truly love me, accept that and let me go._

 _I don't want to be alone._ It's strange. I've been alone here for a long time, but I never felt more alone than I do at this moment because before, I knew I had people to go back to if I ever wanted to, one person especially who always loved me even when I failed her. Now, if Leia left, I would no longer be alone by choice.

 _You aren't alone. You have Chewie and Rey now._

 _It won't be the same._

 _I know._

 _Stay. Please._ I beg her one more time.

 _The only ones I would want to stay for are gone. They never had the chance to stay._

She never thinks the names, but I feel it just the same. Her father, Bail. Her mother, Breha. I see Han's face as he looked at the medal ceremony on Yavin's moon.

 _Why aren't I enough?_ I ask in one last effort to keep her spirit here with me.

 _Why wasn't I enough for you or Han or Ben?_

I have no answer for that, and I feel her fade away. As she does, I realize what a fool I have been. The Empire and the First Order couldn't kill Leia. Vader couldn't break her. But, we could. The people who professed to love her the most broke her heart. That's what killed Leia. My sister died of a broken heart.

When I come back to myself, I am kneeling in the dirt, and I look up to see Chewbacca and Rey standing over me. The worry is clear on their faces, but I have no reassurances to offer.

"Leia is dead." My own voice sounds strange to me. "She killed Kylo Ren. She finished what she set out to do. And, now she's gone."

Chewbacca howls, his grief reflecting my own. We failed them. We failed Ben, and Han, and now Leia. And, in that moment I catch Rey's eyes, and the Force reveals the truth to me, a truth that has come too late. And, I scream through the Force, scream so loudly and forcefully that I know Snoke can feel it. He knows where I am, and I don't care. Let him come. I will follow in Leia's footsteps. I have one last thing to do for the galaxy before I let myself rest.

 **The End**

More Author's Notes: I had the seed for this idea a few month's ago, but it wasn't developed enough for me to do anything with it. When I heard Carrie Fisher had died, a little more of the story became clear. Then I learned that her mother, Debbie Reynolds, had died and that her brother, Todd Fisher said their mother died from a broken heart, that Debbie Reynolds said she wanted to be with her daughter again. Hearing that, the rest of this story just came to me.


End file.
